The Answer
by Mediancat
Summary: So who DID kill Lilly Kane? AU, so the answer's not what you think.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: No, I haven't forgotten about anything else I'm writing. But this one's likely to be short, so no worries. I don't think I've ever seen this particular spin on the opening question.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created Veronica Mars. I ain't him.

X X X X X

Who killed Lilly Kane?

It's the question on everyone's lips. Has been for months, now. And I can answer it for you.

My name's Veronica Mars. I live in Neptune, where there are three types of people. The haves, the have-nots, and -- well, I'll introduce you to the third type shortly. No point in getting ahead of ourselves.

Lilly and I were at a Neptune High Pep Squad car wash when she came up to me. "I know a secret, Veronica Mars," she said. "A good one." Right then the witch who actually ran the pep squad came over and told us to stop talking. We both glared at her, but Lilly didn't feel inclined to share while she was actually watching. Pity she didn't; it might have saved everyone a whole lot of trouble if she had.

I remember when Dad got the call about her death. I was with him at the time. He told me to stay in the car while he investigated the "disturbance at the Kane place." But since when have I ever paid attention to my father?

Seeing Duncan, I knelt by him and asked him what had happened. He seemed to be in shock.

Of course he was. He'd just seen his sister's dead body. I saw it myself when I went into the Kane backyard. No one saw me until I was actually able to see Lilly's body, lying there, skull caved in, and blood everywhere.

I just stood there until Dad said, "Veronica!" and got one of his deputies to escort me back to the car.

Things started to go downhill for a bit after that -- Dad got it in his head that one of the Kane family had done it, and they, being the richest people in Neptune, naturally fought back. They got a petition for a recall election started, and it almost worked, until a newspaper report was published showing that Don Lamb -- who would have taken over had Dad been booted out -- was guilty of, among other things, malfeasance in office. So Dad kept his job, and kept right on pressing the Kanes.

A guy named Abel Koontz then "confessed" to the crime. Complete bullshit, of course, and Dad was able to prove it fairly quickly -- and also managed to show that Jake Kane himself had put him up to it.

Say bye-bye to Jakey for a while. And now Dad's investigation seemed completely legitimate in the eyes of the public. After all, he wouldn't have been engaged in a cover-up if there hadn't been anything to cover up, right?

Of course, no one in the Kane family did kill Lilly. But it gave Dad something to do.

There are three types of people in Neptune: The haves, the have-nots . . . and me. Technically, I'm a have-not, though with my Dad in a position of power that gives me street cred with the haves -- even more so, now that he's managed to fight off Jake Kane at every turn. Not that people tended to piss me off anyway. Neptune High has learned: Bad things tend to happen to people who piss me off.

By now, you're probably wondering who exactly killed Lilly Kane.

The answer is easy: I did.

Stick around and I'll tell you why.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the reviews mentions "innocent Veronica."

This is _not_ 'innocent Veronica.' This is no Veronica you've ever met before. There's a specific word to describe what this Veronica is, and I'm deliberately not using it – but a special prize to the first person to use it in a review.

And this is about as far from fluffy as it gets.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created Veronica Mars. This is not his creation.

X X X X X

They say that knowledge is power.

This is complete bullshit, of course. If knowledge really were power, Albert Einstein would have run the world.

What makes knowledge power is the guts to use it when you have to. It doesn't do you any good to – oh, let's take a complete hypothetical here – 'know' that Duncan Kane is prone to epileptic fits and violent rages if you're not prepared to use it. Like say, you care about him, or something.

Fortunately, I've never been blessed with an overabundance of actually caring about people. It's a good thing to be able to fake, and I can fake it well. For instance, when I came into school this morning, I saw that Weevil and his gang had duct-taped a new kid – black, not half-bad looking – to the flagpole.

He knows better than that – or he should. But no matter. Most of the time, I just let Weevil have his fun. He knows who really runs this school, so if he wants to torture a random new boy every once in a while, I'm not usually inclined to bitch.

But this was different. I'd seen this kid before – his name was Wallace, and he worked in the office. The school office was the one place I'd never really been able to penetrate. So I thought maybe he might prove useful. I looked around at everyone, said, "Back off, please –" everyone did – and cut him down.

He was grateful enough to want to be my friend. And I was smart enough to let him think he was – let him think that I "cared" about him. He even called me a "peach" at one point. I liked the analogy. You'll see why in a minute.

Anyway. If I hadn't had the guts to tell my father about Duncan's epilepsy – and the press, too, of course – then people wouldn't know about it – and wouldn't maybe be thinking Duncan was a viable candidate for having killed Lilly.

I dated Duncan for a while; he fell in love with me, or so he says. I've personally never actually believed in love; it's a way to sell movies and greeting cards. I believe in lust – I've certainly exploited other people's often enough – but not love. Still, if someone thinks they're in love with me, that gives me all the power I need. (He confided these seizures to me, at one point, as we lay there in the 'afterglow.' Afterglow, my ass. Duncan may have a dull kind of good looks, but as far as satisfying a woman goes, he's a hamster. Logan Echolls, on the other hand – but I'm getting ahead of myself again. Sorry about that.)

Anyway, lust is power. Sure, you'd never think to look at me that it was something I could use so readily, but that only proves how deceiving looks can be. Lust can be generated by sheer looks – and I don't exactly look like the mob worked me over, though I'm no sex bomb – but other things can generate it, too. Conversation. Flirtation. Charm. And charm, I'm an expert at.

I kind of picked that up from my Dad, though he probably wouldn't appreciate the uses I'm putting it to. He actually has a sense of ethics.

On the chance that evidence develops that clears Duncan – legitimate evidence – or if Dad's never able to develop enough proof to actually go to trial, I've got a couple of other people to throw into the line of fire. The rest of the Kane family. Jake found out who Lilly was sleeping with when she died. (Aaron Echolls, amazingly enough. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I wouldn't have thought Lilly would have liked them so . . . old.) Celeste thought she was embarrassing the family.

Aaron Echolls is also a possibility. So is Weevil Navarro – another one of Lilly's lovers -- though I'd hate to send someone to jail who's been so useful to me. For someone who was so self-righteous about who got to sleep with _her_ boyfriends, Lilly sure got around, didn't she?

But you see, the point is, that I know these things, and that I'm willing to use them if I have to.

It's what got me to the position I'm in today, undisputed Queen Bee of Neptune High. Honestly, at times that's like being a great white in a tank full of salmon, but you take what you can get. I've got bigger plans, and they don't included being nailed for the murder of a whiny 17-year old.

Besides, she deserved what she got. She got in my way.

Oh, I'm sorry. Am I being too harsh for you? Am I not the Veronica you expected?

Do I seem kind of soft and sweet and cute and fuzzy on the outside, but if you look inside there's something poisonous and hard waiting for you?

Well, you know what they say. Veronica Mars: She's a peach.


	3. Chapter 3

Unfortunately, I'm not getting anything emailed to me from the Fanfiction website right now – no "review alerts," nothing. So if anyone's sent me a PM recently, I haven't gotten it. Sorry about that.

But I will say that the word in question was indeed "sociopath."

Edited to fix date.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created _Veronica Mars._ I don't think he'd want anything to do with this version, though.

X X X X X

So. You may be asking, how did I get this way?

I hit the genetic lottery.

I was born with an advantage a lot of other people don't have.

I've looked up the definition in medical journals. What I am is supposed to be some kind of "mental disorder." Like it's a mental disorder not to have to wade through all the moral BS that the rest of you have to deal with every day. I personally consider myself one of the luckiest people on the face of the earth. (Yeah, I know, I stole that line from Lou Gehrig, But, honestly, how can someone who was dying of a fatal illness consider himself "lucky?" What an idiot.)

Oh. Does that offend you? Well, I'm sorry.

Actually, I'm not, but I've learned to say that.

I took very careful note of that definition, though. People like me are supposed to be prone to pyromania and be cruel to animals – and to have a "callous disregard" for both rules and the feelings of others. I've learned. I'm never cruel to animals, I've never casually set fires (except in the barbecue, which I think is still socially acceptable), and I very rarely _publicly _scorn rules or the feelings of others. I work and play well with others.

I've learned to play by the rules most of the time. For instance, though it would have been ridiculously easy for me to cheat at school, I never have. For one thing, it's rarely been anything I've needed to do, and for another, what would have happened had I been caught wasn't worth the reward, most of the time. (If it ever is – like, if it's necessary for me to win the Kane Scholarship – I'll do it, believe me. But until then --)

That's the major reason to play by the rules that I can see: the consequences if you're caught. You always have to think of consequences. It's what ultimately ended up costing Lilly Kane her life. (Don't worry, I'm getting back to that. I said I would, didn't I? Trust me.)

I bet some of you are actually trusting me right now.

Anyway. I was born back in 1987 to Keith and Lianne Mars. I found out later there was a question of my parentage -- turns out mom and ol' Jakey Kane were having an affair way back when -- and sent in some DNA to be tested as soon as I could.

Unfortunately, I wasn't Jake Kane's daughter. I could have used the money.

Not that I have anything against Keith Mars. Really, I don't. He's taught me an awful lot about the criminal mind, and interrogation techniques, and all of that. I told him it was because I wanted to be a lawyer when I grew up. I may very well do that at some point; it could be useful. Anyway, the idea of getting criminals off on technicalities -- or maybe even putting them in jail on similar technicalities -- now, that sounds like a lot of fun. A real intellectual challenge. And I love those.

Anyway, Keith Mars. He's done the best he could, really, given the fact that he got stuck with a conscience. It's why I've been protecting him. He's looked out for me his whole life, so I look out for him. Quid pro quo. It only makes sense. It's why I made sure the knowledge of Don Lamb's perfidy made it to the papers. Also, Dad's losing his job would have caused me to take something of a social hit, and I couldn't have that.

I mean, look what's happened to Duncan since –

Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself again. I really have to stop doing that.

Lianne Mars, now, she's a different story. She gave birth to me, and she's a good cook, but otherwise, honestly, the woman is a waste of the air she breathes. For instance, she drinks. Not that I won't drink a beer or two when the social situation calls for it, but getting drunk is just such a bad idea. People do stupid things when they're drunk or high. And my life depends on not doing stupid things.

That's why I took those photos of Mom and Jake resuming their affair and made sure Dad got a few copies, anonymously mailed, of course. Mom tried to plead with Dad that it was a one-time thing, but Dad was too smart to believe that. (Dad may be the smartest person I know, except for myself, of course.) And so Mom was out the door. Sure, I'll miss her cooking, but really, not a whole lot else. I mean, she was already drinking to excess and sleeping around – and more importantly, doing so publicly, where everyone could see her. I'm hardly one to moralize, but if you're going to do things like this, don't do them in plain sight where you can embarrass everyone – especially daughters with big plans and long memories.

As for the Kanes: I got to know them as I was growing up. Lilly Kane was my entrée into the wonderful world of "high-society" among the Neptune High crowd. But most of them were kind of stupid – they looked down on most people who weren't originally from their precious '09er zip code. Most of them were, to put it bluntly, more or less worthless human beings. Possibly worth cultivating for their connections, but that's about it.

There are three types of people in the world: The useful, the potentially useful, and the useless. In general, you should to be "nice" to people in the first two classes. The useful are those like Logan Echolls – who's great in bed, and one of the few people around here smart enough to challenge my intellect – Weevil Navarro, Shelly Pomroy, and Cindy "Mac" Mackenzie.

Mac is potentially the most dangerous person at Neptune with her computer skills. Fortunately, she's socially inept, and while not easily motivated by promises of being able to "suck up to the '09er freakshow," she still likes the money they give her for their computer problems. So I can handle her. It also helps that she seemed to really need a friend or two, and I'm perfectly willing to do that. I'm already known to be "the nice one" among Neptune High's power elite, anyway. So Mac gets money and a "friend," and I neutralize a potential threat. Win-win.

As for potentially useful -- for example, even though Duncan's currently under investigation for having killed his sister, there's still a chance he wouldn't be convicted or even charged. So there's no percentage in ticking him off, unless I could make a major gain for myself by doing so.

He came up to me after he learned that the Balboa County Sheriff's Office had learned of his epilepsy, and asked me, wounded, if I'd told them. "Of course not," I lied. (They'd gotten an anonymous tip. Say hi to anonymous.) "But they said you told them –"

"Duncan," I said. "I couldn't lie to my father about it when he asked if you'd said anything. Besides, I know you're innocent. You could never hurt Lilly, even by accident."

"But what my father did –"

"Your father was trying to protect you because of this, true. I know it looks bad. But I have faith in you, Duncan. You'll ride it out."

And he believed me.

They always do.

And then there's the useless.

By the time of Lilly's death, I was already firmly established in my position of power – my only rival was my "best friend" Lilly. She'd already done everything she could for me.

It's not like I was planning to kill her, but I was planning to usurp her position. There can be only one. If she'd only stepped aside gracefully –

But she didn't.

And then came that day at the car wash – when she'd come storming up to me in such a bad mood that I'd said, "God, Lilly. Looks like you need Prozac."

And then that night, in her backyard.

When she got in my way.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I'm thinking I may wrap up this story within a part or two. Would anyone have an interest in a retold episode or two based on this character?

(The one thing I'm going to resist is the _Mirror, Mirror_ temptation.)

Or is Veronica Mars the sociopath best in small doses?

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created all of these characters and their settings. All I own is this particular storyline.

X X X X X

Ah, Lilly.

Dear, sweet, Lilly Kane.

I learned a lot from her.

The most important thing she gave me was my entrée into the Neptune High elite, of course, but she did a lot more for me than that.

(No, not _that_. Get your mind firmly out of the gutter. I'm not saying I'd never sleep with a woman if it was necessary, but my physical lusts run strictly to the male of the species.)

One of the things I learned most from Lilly was charm. A lot of that I learned from my father, of course, but Lilly's charm was an entirely different kind. Dad's charm is the kind that wants to gain trust, respect, and information. Lilly's is the kind intended to gain the love and admiration of all who surround her.

And she was damned good at it. If I hadn't lucked out in being who I was, I probably would have fallen for it too. As it was, I could sit back and admire her technique and pretend to buy into it while I figured out what she did and how she did it.

She "took me under her wing," promising to "draw me out to become the goddess I was meant to be." And since that is what I was meant to be, I let her.

I let her show me the ways of dealing with these people, ingratiating myself with people with whom otherwise I would have nothing in common. She taught me how to dress to impress – impress parents, friends, and men.

She confided sexual techniques to me – how to make guys happy in bed. A lot of what I learned, I learned initially from her. Of course, I've gone well beyond what she taught me, but she gave me the initial push. Not than Duncan was ever especially appreciative, but Logan – oh yes, Logan definitely is.

Of course, Logan thinks I love him, just like Duncan did, and just like Lilly did. I tell him so on a regular basis, and he knows he's the only one I'm sleeping with.

Which is, for the most part, true. That was one of Lilly's problems: she absolutely could not stay faithful. She'd bounce from Logan to Weevil Navarro -- which would have made excellent blackmail; still could, if Weevil ever decides to get rowdy. But Weevil's a smart boy. He knows better than to try to cross me. I haven't even had to make the threat.

Not that I haven't managed to flirt my way into the hearts of half a dozen other guys at Neptune High, all of whom think they have a shot at me one day. But Logan keeps me physically satisfied and he's the highest-ranking male at Neptune at the moment, so really, how could I do better?

Anyway, Lilly. Lilly had two weaknesses. One is that she slept around; the other is that, essentially, she loved people and expected them to love her back unreservedly. For instance, it was always okay for her to cheat on Logan, but never okay for him to do the same. (Again, not that I'm moralizing here. If it's ever necessary for me to cheat on Logan, I'll do it in a heartbeat. But at least I realize the inequity of such a relationship.)

Also, she had a conscience. Not much of one, it's true, but she was loyal to those she cared about, even when they stopped being useful to her.

But, oddly, it was more the first than the second that brought about her downfall.

Okay, downfall, death, blah blah blah.

That day at the car wash, when she came storming up to me, she was clearly in a bad mood. Why, I didn't know. She was regularly getting laid by Aaron Echolls – I found this out one day when I dropped by the Echolls house and saw them slip into the poolhouse.

Which was fine by me; I was there to slip into something else, anyway, but he wasn't there. So I instead took a few photographs – future blackmail, I thought at the time, although now I guess I could use them to frame Aaron if I had to. (Though I'd better be careful if I do. Aaron has a nasty temper.)

He hits Logan. Did you know that? Logan told me that one time as we lay there, exhausted after sex. (We don't 'make love.' Really, what a stupid euphemism. We fuck. We fuck well, and often, and to the physical satisfaction of both of us. But there's no love involved. Even if Logan doesn't believe that.)

It hadn't been hard to notice the scars covering his back. Getting him to talk about them was more difficult. Honestly, I was just curious. Logan seemed like such a tough person on the outside, and to let someone hit him -- You can believe me when I say I had to plans to go after the person who did it – unless, of course, it would do me some good along the way.

"Logan," I said. "Who did this to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" I said. "Oh. Do you _like_ to be hurt? Because I can do that if –"

"No," he said angrily. "I don't like to be hurt. And I can't imagine you liking to hurt people."

"I don't," I said. (The truth. I neither like nor hate it. I simply do it because I have to.) "But if you did, I was willing to do it for you." After a second, "I love you," I lied.

"I know you do," he said. "And, God, I love you. More than I can say." For a while after Lilly's death, he'd felt guilty about us being seen together in public. I was willing to keep it private for a while, but eventually managed to convince him that "Lilly would have wanted us to be happy."

I don't think I've ever said anything funnier in my life.

"Then tell me," I said gently.

And he did. That's when I found out exactly what kind of person Aaron Echolls was: abusive, fanatically dedicated to his self-image, and willing to use anyone or anything to get his way. I think he may have been born with the same advantages I have. I wonder if he recognizes that in me as well.

Back to Lilly. I hadn't yet begun to make my move to replace her – although the confrontation was coming, I don't think she believed I'd ever do anything to hurt her – that I would be happy being the princess to her queen.

As they say, dream on. I had marked out my path already in life, and being a social leader who was still an intellectual (and had time for extracurricular activities) was just the first step.

Anyway, once you've ruled a high school, with the petty politics and backbiting, ruling pretty much anywhere else has to be a piece of cake. I haven't yet determined exactly how far I want to go – Governor? Senator? President? – but I'm going to get there someday. That's one of the reasons being a lawyer will be useful.

Hmmm. Probably better off being a prosecutor, then. People tend to like those who put criminals away more than they do those who get them off on technicalities.

Too bad. I think defense work would be more fun. (Cliff McCormack always seems to be having a good time.) The sacrifices I make, I swear --

Once again, back to Lilly. Sorry for my continual digressions. To the best of my knowledge, by the time of the car wash, I hadn't done anything to hurt her at that point. This may be one of the minor handicaps of not having a conscience, though -- not always realizing when you've done something "wrong" by other people's standards. I know the rules, I have them internalized, but that doesn't mean I might not have missed a few here and there.

I told you earlier that her downfall was that she expected other people to love her back. To love her enough not to betray her.

People like, say, me.

Or Logan.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: A flat.

Disclaimer: I own the storyline only; Rob Thomas owns the characters and settings, although he probably doesn't want this particular iteration of them.

X X X X X

It all started one night when Duncan and Lilly and Logan and I were going to a dance. This was before Logan and Lilly had had one of their thousand breakups, and while I still got enough out of Duncan to make him worth dating.

And it's not like Duncan was horrible; I mean, sure, he wasn't that great in bed, but he bought me expensive things and always paid for the meals, and that's something. I mean, not enough to keep me around when things start to go to hell, but enough until I scoped out the other options.

I hadn't even considered Logan as one of them. For one thing, he was dating Lilly, and since I was learning from her, I hadn't seen any reason to tick her off. For another, he'd never shown the slightest bit of interest in me. Oh, we got along fine, but nothing more until that one night in the limousine. We'd all decided to play truth or dare. I was tempted to see how outrageous a lie I could get away with under the heading of "truth," but Duncan ended up asking me a really boring question.

Anyone up for a rousing rendition of the "who'd'a thunk it" chorus? Didn't think so.

Anyway, it all started when Lilly asked Logan what he thought of me the first time he saw me.

He seemed almost embarrassed, but he said, "I don't know; I thought she was hot."

I blinked. "Really," I said. "I never would have guessed."

"Besides," Lilly said, "Wasn't she, like, 12?"

"And totally working it in shorts and knee socks."

I laughed and said, "That was my soccer uniform!"

"It still worked," he said.

And I could tell that he meant it.

Naturally, I was intrigued. From what Lilly had said, Logan was a hell of a good rime in bed. And I figured I'd learned all I could from her anyway. So I figured, what better way to make my move than to seduce Logan right out from under her?

I began my campaign the very next school day. It was a nice enough day, so I wore shorts and knee socks. I went up to Logan when he was sitting by himself during lunch and said, "Did you mean what you said in the limo?"

"I said a lot of different things in the limo, Mars," he said. "I don't even remember half of them. If it had anything to do with giant lizard people invading Java the Hut, then the answer is no."

"Darn," I said. "I was hoping for a good photo or two to sell to _Weekly World News_." He laughed. "No, I meant during the truth or dare when you said you thought I was hot when you first met me." He looked around a little nervously. Now I laughed. "First, I'm not trying to get you in trouble with Lilly. Second, she didn't yell at you when you said it before, what makes you think it would get you in trouble now?"

He was convinced. Good. That had been me at my most convincing. "Yeah, I meant it. Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I was just curious," I said. "It's just something I wish I'd known sooner, that's all." I turned around and walked away; his eyes followed me all the way back inside.

This promised to be fun.

I sent him a few knowing glances throughout the day, and kept this up for the rest of the week. He didn't throw himself at my feet, but he seemed extremely confused. And Lilly, bless her, remained blissfully oblivious.

It got even easier later the next weekend, when Logan drunkenly started making out with another girl – daughter of some rapper -- at a party. It was only for a minute; but it was long enough. I took a couple of pictures and made sure Lilly got them.

I couldn't have told her personally; then Logan would have gotten angry at me. And while I'm sure I could have worked my way around that, I figured, why put in the effort?

So the photos assured one of their regular breakups, no doubt, in Lilly's mind, to be followed by a makeup in a few days or weeks. Only that wasn't going to happen this time.

I dropped by the Echolls estate the day after the breakup to "check in on my friend Logan." He was the only one home at the time, and after he let me in we went and sat on his couch.

"What do you want, Mars?" he said. "Here to torture me a little more? Didn't Lilly's public snubbing of me do that well enough already?"

"I didn't come over here for that, Logan," I said, walking towards him. "I came over here to say that I think she wildly over-reacted. I mean, look at her. She dumps you for every minor transgression you make – and then expects you to run back to her whenever she's done with whoever she's doing. And you do."

"I love her," he said.

"I know you do. I love her too," I lied. "But I think it's time you stood up for yourself a little. Show a little backbone. The next time she snaps her fingers you can say, 'sorry, baby. Your turn to wait for me.'"

"I already did that at the party," Logan said. "You see what happened there."

I shook my head. "That was drunken and unintentional and it doesn't count. You should try it again with your eyes wide open."

"And if someone tells her?"

"Then they tell her," I said. "But who's going to tell? You're not going to. And certainly I'm not going to."

"You –" I shut him up by leaning in to kiss him. "What was that about?" he said a bit bemusedly.

"What do you think it was?" I said, as I straddled him on the couch. "You said earlier in the week that you wanted me. I've been watching you carefully. You still do." When he didn't say anything, I said, "You reacted to that kiss." I began to kiss him again.

At first he pushed me away – but not too hard. The second time he did it, I barely had to stop.

There was no third time.


	6. Chapter 6

Logan and I kept up our affair for the next couple of weeks. After school, I'd sneak over and we'd have sex. Sometimes we'd kiss and fondle each other in the closets at school -- or in the "closed" women's bathroom that everyone in school knew was "my office," and went in only when they knew I wasn't there.

Lilly'd been right about one thing; Logan satisfied my physical lusts a lot better than Duncan ever had.

Why did I ever go out with Duncan, you may be wondering, if he was so boring and bad in bed? It wasn't the money or the gifts; I could have gotten them from a lot of different '09er boys. No, it was the status once again. Being friends with Lilly got me into the special '09er glee club; dating Duncan Kane helped keep me there. Logan understood why publicly I was still dating Duncan, but he knew that it was he that I "really loved."

Love and the belief in it makes it so easy to manipulate people. Wallace, Mac, Duncan, Logan and Lilly all thought I loved them in various ways, and I got a lot out of them because of it.

It was on one of these visits to his house that I saw Lilly slip in to see Aaron. I got as close as I dared to take those photos, then got out before anyone else knew I was there. I never saw Lynn Echolls on these visits, even when her car was there. My guess is, she was busily drinking herself to death to take the edge off being a lousy mother and apparently so pathetic in bed that Aaron was willing to sleep with a 16-year old girl. Not like I cared except insofar as it affected me.

And it really didn't.

Anyway, it was then that Logan and I made our mistake. One time, he convinced me to go out to the poolhouse, because his father was due home any second and he didn't want to be caught.

Honestly, Aaron probably wouldn't have cared; Lilly would have, but at this point Aaron could hardly have accused his own son of hypocrisy.

It was the next day she came stalking up to me at the car wash, snarling that she "knew a secret. A good one." After the car wash was over, she told me to follow her back to her place.

"Why can't we take your car?"

"I don't want you in it right now," she said.

So I followed her back to the Kane estate and we went up into the backyard, where she held up a videotape.

"God, Lilly, if all you wanted to do was watch a couple of chick flicks, you should have said something."

"Not that kind of movie," she said. "This one features two people having sex."

"Hmmm. Porn, I wouldn't have thought you'd be into that kind of thing."

She snapped out, "It's you and Logan. How could you?"

"It was easy," I said. "First Logan pulled down his pants and took off his shirt. Then I took off my blouse -- he took off my bra, of course, or should I say he ripped it off --"

She slapped me.

"You know what I mean, Veronica Mars," she said. "How could you sleep with Logan?"

"Using the methods you taught me," I said. "And you were right. He is spectacular. Much better than your brother."

She laughed humorlessly. "God, Veronica. I thought you were my friend. I thought you loved Duncan."

In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. "Wrong on both counts. Obviously."

She looked at me. "When did you become this -- this bitch?"

I shrugged. "About nine months before I was born." She looked confused. Of course she did. Lilly had charm, but she really wasn't all that bright. "It's genetics, moron. I was born this way." Then I said, "So, I'm guessing Aaron had the poolhouse wired?"

"Huh?"

"Don't act dumb, Lilly. You're sleeping with Aaron. I saw the two of you sneak in there the other day and got close enough to be sure you weren't planning Logan's big birthday surprise. I even have pictures. So. Did he have hidden cameras?"

"Yeah," Lilly said. "I found out about it yesterday. Imagine my surprise when the first tape I pop in had you doing it with _my_ boyfriend."

"I can't imagine Aaron was too fond of you finding out about it," I said.

"He doesn't know. I hid this one in my purse. Far as he knows I never even saw it. Not like I'm going to sleep with him again, but he and I both knew it wasn't a long-term thing anyway." She looked at me. "You'll be done at that school when this gets out --"

"When what gets out? That finally your boyfriend had the guts to step out on you the way you've been doing to him for the last year or so? When it wasn't Aaron, it was Weevil. When it wasn't Weevil, it was the pool boy. I mean, Lilly, as far as I can tell the only man around here you _haven't_ had sex with is my father." I narrowed my eyes. "So go ahead. We'll see who's left standing."

She held the tape and said, "You might be able to match me at Neptune High, but I can think of two other people who might be interested to know what's going on. I'll send the tape to your father and mention the photos to Aaron. Between the two of them, you won't last a week."

"Give me the tape, Lilly."

She laughed. "No."

I had to have it. I reached for it and she held it above her head.

Then I pushed her. "Give me that goddamn tape."

She shook her head. "My God. You're crazy." She reached for her cell phone and I knocked it out of her hand; it landed in the swimming pool.

She turned and started to run.

I shoved her before she could take a step. She fell down, dropping the tape as she did so.

Then Lilly rolled over. "Dammit, Veronica, you broke my nose. You are in so much trouble --"

I couldn't let her get me in trouble. Not after I'd worked so hard. Before she could get up, I jumped on top of her and slammed her head into the concrete surrounding the pool. Once, twice, and --

I heard the bones crack and saw the blood. Then I got off of her and picked up the tape.

Then I thought. Had I touched anything besides her?

I'd hit the cell phone, but that was floating in the pool. Otherwise, I didn't think so. She'd opened the front door, she'd opened the back door.

I grabbed the tape, jumped in my car, and went home. Dad picked me up that night after he got home from the Sheriff's office because we were going to go out for dinner, and you know what happened next.

So you see, really, how she gave me no choice. I'd told her to give me the tape and she'd said no. And , if you think about it, it was really a kind of self-defense anyway. After all, she'd threatened me first.

Really, what else could I have done?


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: So, how far would you like to see me go with this?

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created Veronica Mars. I'm not him and I'm not making any money off of this.

X X X X X

Of course, I couldn't break up with Duncan in the immediate aftermath; I had to stick with my boyfriend in this "time of tragedy."

Logan insisted that we stop seeing each other -- he was feeling guilty, for some reason. I've never gotten the concept of guilt. Oh, I know what it looks like, and I can act guilty as well as anyone, and I know the definition, but really, you do something or you don't do something, and you keep going. It's this idea of "guilt" that holds most people back from doing the things that need to be done to get them ahead in the world.

I don't feel guilt. That's why I'm where I am today.

In any event, Logan somehow he thought that he could have prevented Lilly's death. Like if he hadn't made out with the woman at that party, hadn't been sleeping with me, this wouldn't have happened.

Well, of course not. So?

Anyway, this actually made it easier for me for a while, since I was one of the last people known to have seen Lilly alive. A couple of people mentioned that Lilly had seemed angry when she came up to me. I told Dad that I didn't know why she'd been angry; I knew she'd broken up with Logan recently, but that was about it.

Dad believed me. Dad wanted to believe me, which made it easier, but still, there's no one better at figuring out who's lying and who's telling the truth than he is. Of course, no one's a better liar than me, so that makes things a bit less nerve-wracking, but still.

Anyway, this was when he started in on the Kane family, and we know what happened then. Jake tried to have my father thrown out of office -- it was then that I "reluctantly" broke up with Duncan.

"Veronica," he protested. "I'm not the one doing this."

"Do you expect me to stand idly by while your father tries to ruin mine?"

"Your father's treating my father like a suspect."

"I know," I said. "But he's just doing his job. Your father's over-reacting. And I can't date you if you can't see that."

"Can we still be friends?" God, how pathetic he was.

Still, no point in completely burning the bridge. "Of course we can. But we'd probably better not see each other for a while -- you know, to ease the pain." And to make it easier for me to try to get Logan back into my bed. And this time, we could go public.

It took me a couple of weeks to overcome Logan's "guilt" and "grief." But, when I want something, I can be very determined. A little physicality combined with "Lilly would have wanted us to be happy" and "Duncan effectively broke it off with me" and I had him back in my bed again. A bit after that, we went public. There were a couple of muttered whispers about how quickly Logan and I were stepping on Lilly's grave, but no one ever had the guts to say anything to my face. Smart of them.

This was a bit of a rocky time for me, with my father investigating the most powerful man in Neptune and with Jakey reacting the way he was -- so I had to scramble to maintain my position. This is when I started investigating Don Lamb and found the evidence of his corruption. And there was plenty of evidence, too; I didn't need to make anything up. A little bit came from the records of the Neptune Sheriff's Department -- it's good to be the daughter of the sheriff, sometimes -- a little bit came from following Donny around, and a little bit came from his own house.

Breaking and entering? Yeah. But you hang around with cops and robbers long enough, you learn a few things.

He never even knew I was there. Of course, Lamb's an idiot; I probably could have left a forensics trail a mile wide and he'd've never noticed.

Having fought off the recall, Dad next had to deal with the fake Abel Koontz confession. Figuring that out was entirely his doing -- he really is good at his job, after all.

Logan stuck by side throughout all of it, and once Jake Kane was arrested for obstructing justice, all of those whispers about me kind of died down. I quietly figured out who'd been doing the whispering and marked them down so I could keep my eye on them. Tops on that list was Madison Sinclair, and honestly, she's a bigger waste of oxygen than my mother is.

Duncan became an outcast. I still didn't completely cut ties with him -- thus cementing my status as "the nice one" among Neptune High's ruling class. Besides, I didn't want him to think that I'd been the one pointing the Sheriff's office in his direction. To this day, almost nine months later, he has no clue who told the Sheriff's Office about his epilepsy. If he'd only give it serious thought, he'd realize it had to be me. But just like everyone else, Duncan doesn't want to think I could be capable of something like that.

It's this willful blindness that makes my life so much easier.

Anyway, sometime not long after this came Shelly Pomroy's end of the year party. Shelly wasn't a particularly worthwhile human being -- dull except for a certain ability to get men to lust after her -- but her father was the Ambassador to Belgium, so, I put up with her. If I wanted to go into politics eventually, I might need the connections someday.

Logan warned me before we got there not to accept any drinks I hadn't made myself -- some friends of his had gotten GHB and were planning to have a little fun with their girlfriends. One of these was Dick Casablancas. Dick was another person in my "potentially useful" classification; certainly, he's one of the many men around Neptune High who thinks he has a shot with me someday.

He doesn't. I'd take a social hit for that one. Dick may have rich and powerful relatives, but he's kind of stupid and only thinks about women as potential conquests. Not that I'm objecting on moral grounds, of course; I tend to think of most men the same way. The difference is, people know about Dick's attitude, and they don't know about mine. The last thing you want to be is one more notch on the bedpost of someone with that kind of reputation.

Thank goodness I followed Logan's advice. Someone passed me a soda as I walked by the bar; I handed it off to Duncan, who'd come to the party despite his diminishing reputation.

Apparently there was GHB in the drink, because Duncan acted like an idiot for the rest of the night and apparently woke up in bed the next morning with Shelly Pomroy, neither of whom remembered what had happened. Although they knew damn well what had. And so did everyone else, because Shelly made damn sure everyone understood that she had to have been the victim, because "everyone knows what Duncan Kane is like, anyway . . . "

Ah well. At least it wasn't me.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I think I've found my way to extend it a couple of more parts . . .

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created _Veronica Mars_ and all of the characters and settings in this story. I own only the plot itself.

X X X X X

The next nine months or so were kind of routine.

Duncan's public life at Neptune High went plummeting like an anvil off a cliff. The only thing stopping him from going from the heights to the depths, was, well, me.

I didn't do it to be nice, obviously. I needed to stay friendly with him in case Dad's investigation kicked into high gear and I needed to find or manufacture some additional evidence -- whether to convict him or free him would depend on the circumstances. Obviously my life would be a lot easier if someone else were in jail for Lilly's murder, but I never knew what might come up.

This did cause me a few problems -- mostly from Shelly Pomroy, whom I knew damn well had been as willing a participant as Duncan had in their sexual encounter -- okay, as unwilling, pick pick pick.

"Veronica, you know what he did --"

"Shelly, I know what actually happened," I said. "Someone drugged him, the way they drugged you." I admired that she was smart enough to play the victim angle first. "And I know he didn't kill Lilly."

Have you ever noticed that the truth can sometimes be the most effective lie of all? "I know he didn't kill Lilly." Simple, direct, and absolutely true.

But _everyone_ misinterprets why. Everyone thinks it's because I have utter faith in the kindness and decency of Duncan Kane. Which is a crock, of course; Duncan may be "kind" and "decent" as certain people measure such things, but I don't have faith in kindness in decency. (I don't have _faith_ in anything except myself.)

And of course, the reality is so much simpler -- but it's a reality no one wants to even consider.

Anyway, Shelly said, "I just don't get why you're willing to stick by him."

"Because that's who I am," I said. "I stick by the people I believe in." After a second, "Shelly. I can only imagine how you're feeling right now. But I'm asking you as a friend, please don't make me choose between you."

Shelly sighed. "Okay, Veronica. I won't."

Gotta love that Mars charm.

Beyond a few more grumbles about my continuing occasional association with Duncan, there were pretty much no hassles at all. Jake Kane took a plea and went to jail for about a year in a minimum security prison, Dad continued to not be able to find Lilly's killer -- though the rest of the Neptune criminal community lived in fear and trembling -- and I continued to date Logan Echolls and have good sex with him on a regular basis.

Logan would be a viable suspect, too, for Lilly's death; but throwing him into the line of fire would cause me more trouble than it would help me. So he's out unless it's literally him or me.

In the course of the official investigation, I, along with everyone else remotely associated with the investigation, took a lie detector test.

Dad tried to shield me, but I insisted on it.

"How would it look when the next election came around?" I asked. "Shielding your own daughter?"

Dad sighed. "I just don't want anyone thinking you're a suspect, sweetie."

I said, "I'm not. I'm a character witness and I was one of the last people known to see Lilly before she died. If you're doing this to everyone else, you need to do it to me." I grinned. "Besides, you know me. If I ever killed someone you'd never be able to prove it."

He looked at me. "Sometimes you worry me, Veronica," he said with fake sadness.

"Only sometimes?" I said, frowning. "You're slacking off on your Dad duties there, pal. You're supposed to worry about me all the time."

Dad laughed, and scheduled me for a lie detector test -- and made sure he wasn't in the room when it was administered.

I passed with flying colors, of course. I've read all about polygraph tests; there are three ways of questioning people, two of which are worthless. The Balboa County Sheriff's Department, of course, used one of those, and while I look out for my Dad I'm not going to be cluing him in on this one.

They had me deliberately lie on a couple of questions so they could compare those answers to the answers I gave the rest of the time. (One of the questions they told me to lie on, I told them my name was Aileen Wuornos. Not that I'm a fan of the serial killer; I mainly just thought it was funny.)

I was easily able to lie when I had to, even when the question was, "Are there things you haven't told the police about Lilly Kane's death?" I said "no" and the interpreter couldn't tell I wasn't telling the truth.

I love being me sometimes, I really do.

By the end of the summer, though, Dad was starting to get a bit of pressure because he still hadn't figured out who'd killed Lilly Kane. Never mind how well the department was doing in other areas; the Lilly Kane case was high-profile, and there wasn't someone in jail yet.

Dad had the kind of integrity that stopped him from simply arresting _someone_ just to shut people up. Which is the kind of admirable quality he has that's going to get him kicked out of his job come the next election.

He had plenty of reason to think Duncan did it beyond the simple evidence of his epileptic fits; the Kanes had had clothes in the washer when the Sheriff's Department had gotten there – by the time Dad was able to get a search warrant for the clothing in the house, any evidence had long since been washed away, of course -- and Jake Kane had called Clarence Weidman before he'd called the Sheriff's Department.

Clarence Weidman, of course, simply said he'd been called in there because "Mr. Kane relies on my advice. As soon as I got there, I told him to call the Sheriff's Department, of course." Which was an obvious lie. Clarence Weidman was the kind of person you called to clean up messes, not because you needed a shoulder to cry on.

So there was a lot of suspicious activity, which made Duncan an obvious suspect in the eyes of the public, but it would never get him convicted. Even in jail, Jake Kane had a lot of influence, and more importantly, a lot of money.

"Any progress, Dad?" I asked him when he came home one night.

He sighed. "Yes. The Padres have made up a half game in the standings. World Series here we come, baby!"

"Go Padres!" I said. Then, "You know what I mean, Dad."

"I know what you mean, Veronica, " he said. "And I wish I had better news for you. But it's been nearly a year. The evidence trails have long since grown cold. And since Clarence Weidman no doubt used everything short of arson to clean up the crime scene, I may never be able to prove it."

"Duncan didn't do it," I said.

"Sweetie, it's nice that you have faith in your ex-boyfriend, but you have to know all of the evidence points his way."

"And if you had a smoking gun, I'd be forced to believe you," I said. "But if you had a smoking gun . . ."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation."

"No, we wouldn't." Then, as if I'd just come to the revelation, I said, "You know what I'm going to do?"

"Almost never," Dad said.

"You're stuck. Maybe a fresh set of eyes would help." When he didn't take the bait, I said, "The murderer of my best friend is somewhere out there laughing right now." The laughing at the moment was all internal, of course.

"So . . ." Dad prompted.

"So I'm going to find him."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: This time around, just a quick "thank you" to the reviewers and readers.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created _Veronica Mars_, though once again, I don't think he'd like this version.

X X X X X

Dad looked at me as though I were crazy. Which I suppose by clinical definitions I am, but this was hardly evidence. "Sweetie, no," he said. "I appreciate the offer, but it's really not something I'd feel comfortable with you doing."

"I'm not saying I'm going out to buy a pistol and shoot them myself," I said. "I was just thinking of asking around in a community you don't know that much about. And anyway, who taught me how to ask questions and interrogate? Only the best in the business."

Dad refused to buy the flattery. Which, in this case, was the truth. "I don't want you getting involved in this," he said sternly. "It's too dangerous. Whoever killed Lilly – they're both smart and brutal."

Thanks, Dad. Though I prefer to think of myself as "Willing to do what has to be done" rather than "brutal," I still appreciate the sentiment.

"You're right, Dad. And me? I guess being one of the GPA leaders the last two years running is an indication of my spectacular luck and knack for bribing the right teachers."

"Smart isn't the issue, Veronica."

"You're worried about my ability to be brutal?" I said. "I suppose I could go torture a few puppies if you think I might not be able to emulate Jack Bauer when the time comes." I liked _24_. Jack Bauer was someone who did what was necessary to get done what he wanted to get done. Yeah, he was technically one of the good guys, but once you got past all that morality crap he was one hell of a role model.

He looked at me. "You have an odd sense of humor, you know that?"

"And where did I get that from?" I countered. "Look. You know me well enough to know that I'm going to start poking around whether you want me to or not. I promise you that if I find myself face-to-face with Lilly's killer I won't do anything stupid." Maybe I'll brush my hair or check my teeth, since the only time that happens I'll be looking in a mirror. "I'd rather have your blessing than your disapproval."

"How about if you get neither?" Dad said, sighing. "Look. If you do this, you come to me with _anything_ you find. And I mean anything."

"Look, Daddy!" I said, imitating a three-year old. "I found a gum wrapper! I found an anthill! I found a . . ."

Dad frowned and I backed off. At least he wouldn't be sabotaging my "search for the real killer."

Unlike OJ Simpson, most of my mock search would not be taking place on a golf course.

It had been only a couple of days since I'd taken Wallace down from that flagpole. He was a little leery about sitting with me, given that some of the people I was sitting with were people who'd been laughing at him while he suffered, but I convinced him.

I'd also had to smooth things over between him and Weevil. A couple of members of Weevil's gang had robbed the convenience store where Wallace had been working, and the cops had shown up and forced Wallace to identify them in front of most of the PCH'ers.

To help Wallace out of his jam -- I did need my connection in the Neptune High office, after all -- under the guise of "beginning my investigation," I talked my way into the Balboa County Sheriff's Department evidence locker. Of course, I promised not to touch anything connected with the Lilly Kane case, did I look stupid, I only wanted to see the physical evidence they had –

Which, by the way, wasn't a whole hell of a lot. Of course, some of what they'd had had been connected to Abel Koontz's false confession, and that was all long gone. They had the bloody blocks of pavement I'd smashed her skull into, her cell phone, and assorted things from her car and her room. I looked them over quickly to see if anything pointed me even more clearly towards someone who wasn't Duncan.

Nope. He still remained the most viable suspect. The problem was, they'd already discovered all the possible evidence leading towards him, and they'd never get a conviction with what they had.

Which meant I had two choices. I could dummy up some evidence of my own – and we all see how well that worked for Jake Kane. If I went that route, I had to come up with better evidence than a billionaire and his personal hitman could manufacture – which sounded like a fun challenge, actually -- or I had to come up with enough legitimate evidence to get someone else convicted.

I'd have to try to figure out who, later. Right now, I needed to switch out the security tape they already had in the evidence locker with another one that looked the same. I slipped on a pair of gloves and quickly swapped one for the other. Fortunately for Dad, Sacks was the deputy who'd be testifying in the case against Weevil, so he wouldn't be taking a personal hit for it.

(And the Sheriff's Department didn't make this kind of mistake all that often – and anyway, most of the criticism aimed their way was at their failure in finding, well, me.)

After I had the tape I "examined the evidence" for a few more minutes and then left. Dad caught me before I left the office. "That's your only look," he said. "And you're lucky I even allowed you that much. If this gets out –"

"Why yes," I said. "I want my father thrown out of his job and arrested. That would be super peachy keen."

"There's no need for sarcasm, Veronica," Dad said.

"Did it get my point across? I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize your job." He looks out for me, I look out for him.

"Did you get any ideas?"

"Nothing yet," I said. "I want to talk to a couple of people first." At Dad's frown, I said, "Would you go public with the names of everyone you wanted to question in regards to a particular case before you even started the investigation?"

"No, but I'm not the public."

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble," I lied. Of course I did. Just not me.

He sighed. "A promise is a promise, Veronica. If you come up with anything more than suspicions –"

"I'll tell you. Now can I go?"

He let me go; I saved Wallace from the wrath of the PCH'ers – not that Weevil would have bucked me, but some of his gang members aren't as smart as he is. And that made Wallace eternally grateful.

I love the way these things work out sometimes.

Now, as for my main problem: There were three good suspects, not counting Logan -- Duncan, Weevil, and Aaron Echolls.

Decisions, decisions.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Veronica says something in this fic that may be considered a touch on the controversial side. Be warned.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created _Veronica Mars_ and I have twisted her almost beyond recognition.

X X X X X

Well, so the best way to do this was probably to make a list of the advantages and disadvantages.

The advantages of framing Duncan: Most of the public evidence already points towards him; his father tried to cover up his family's involvement in the case by paying off someone else to take the fall; and everyone already thought he was guilty.

Disadvantages: That was pretty much all the evidence we were going to get, unless I wanted to try to forge some; his family was still rich and would hire the best attorneys on the west coast to protect him; and Clarence Weidman would move heaven and earth to stop it.

Clarence Weidman. If anyone in Neptune actually worried me, it was him. Oh, sure, Aaron Echolls was a physical brute, but he wasn't very smart. Clarence Weidman, on the other hand, would do anything for his employers.

Advantages of framing Weevil: No rich lawyers to get in the way, and while Cliff McCormack was a lot better than his income level and lifestyle would make you think, he was no Wolfram & Hart; he'd been dating Lilly and was, as a widely known petty criminal and gang member, certainly no stranger to violence; and, like with Duncan, his reputation preceded him.

Disadvantages: His motives weren't clear (he and Lilly had been broken up when it had happened, and it's a long enough trail from ex to obsessive ex that I wasn't sure a case could be made for it; his reputation was as a fairly _petty_ criminal, not a murderer; and I actually kind of liked him. He was smart, showed me respect without trying to kiss up to me, and had been tremendously useful when I'd either needed petty crimes done or needed to know who'd done them.

Advantages of framing Aaron Echolls: He apparently would sleep with anything that moved; he was fanatically devoted to his public image; and he was certainly prone to violence. I'm sure Logan would testify to the beatings, if I asked him nicely enough. And there were tapes of him, somewhere

Disadvantages: Only one, really, but it was a doozy: Not only would Aaron Echolls able to afford rich lawyers, but he was a major movie star. I don't know the last time a celebrity took the hit for a crime worse than a DUI or traffic violation. Rich got you off, famous got you off. Aaron Echolls was both. It'd probably be easier to prosecute the President.

There were two places I needed to get into to begin my "search": the Echolls poolhouse and the Kane residence. If Lilly had any evidence of her relationship with Aaron Echolls, I know exactly where she would have hidden it: in the vent in her room.

That meant I had to talk my way into both the Echolls' poolhouse and Lilly's bedroom. Hell, I knew the Kanes hadn't touched the place since Lilly'd died other than to keep it clean. It was set up as a shrine to their precious, darling Lilly. A laugh, of course, since Duncan had always been the family favorite.

Incidentally, the Kanes were endowing a scholarship in her name, which would be awarded to the valedictorian of each Neptune High senior class. This was the funniest thing I'd heard in a long time. Setting up an award for academic achievement and naming it after Lilly Kane was like setting up an award for chastity and naming it for Paris Hilton.

This was widely viewed as a publicity move, but the Kanes still had enough influence and money in Neptune, even with Jakey currently languishing in prison, that the school didn't dare refuse it.

This was good for me. I could use the money. I mean, Hearst was a nice enough school, don't get me wrong, but I was planning to apply to Stanford and Harvard and places like that, where my academic achievements, good as they were, probably wouldn't be enough to earn me free tuition, much less the complete ride that the Kanes were planning on giving out.

Also, the irony would be overwhelming.

Anyway, getting inside the Kane residence would be harder. Not that Duncan would be the problem. He was still obviously in love with me, and since I was one of the few people who weren't treating him as though he were something vomited up by their cat I could waltz in anytime I wanted to.

No, the problem was Celeste.

Celeste Kane had always hated me. I didn't know why until I found our about Jakey and Mom's affair way back when. Obviously she'd thought I could have been Duncan's sister, and oh my God, what would people think if they found out . . . (not, of course, that I would have recoiled in horror if I had been. I realize I would have had to stop dating Duncan, because of society's rules, but you do know that the only real reason for willing partners not to commit incest is genetics, right? I mean, once you've taken care of the possibility of you and your lover making little mutant babies, as far as I'm concerned, you can go to town. Not that I'm going to be making that my campaign slogan or anything.)

I'd put an end to that a long time ago, by anonymously mailing her a copy of the test results. Not that I was trying to make her feel better, just make sure she didn't get in between me and Duncan.

Even with that, she didn't like me much. I suspect the focus of her hatred had shifted from "possible incest" through "not good enough for my son" to "bitch who dumped my son just when he needed him, and anyway she's the daughter of the man who put my husband in jail."

Alright, the last one isn't catchy. But you try to make it shorter.

So I had to make sure Celeste wasn't there, and still try to figure out a way to sneak into Lilly's room and not let Duncan know what I was up to. I suppose I could always simply break and enter, but that would be really hard to explain away if I got caught.

Anyway, that problem was for later. Since it would be easier for me to get into the Echolls' poolhouse, that's what I'd do first.

And what was I going to do there?

Find a particular videotape, of course. And plant that videotape in Lilly's vent, if I had to.

I took out my cell phone and made a call. "Logan. Is this a good time to come over . . .?"


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: So, what did I do wrong with the last chapter? I'm not a "gimme reviews or I quit" type of person, but it's been several days since I posted it and I've gotten one review and a lot fewer hits than the previous chapters.

Was it the controversial subject? If it was, you have to remember that I'm not the main character and in no way share her views.

Was it something else? Or is it just chance? Please tell me, either way.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created _Veronica Mars_ and all of the settings and characters thereto. I own only this plot.

Rob aka Mediancat

X X X X X

As I expected, it was ridiculously easy to persuade Logan to let me come over. In the course of the conversation, I found out that he was alone in the house.

This was going to be easier than I thought. Not that Lynn or Trina, on the off chance she was in town, would have been a problem. Lynn was usually in a stupor and Trina was just pathetic. Aaron was a different story, but fortunately he and Lynn were in New York for some kind of awards ceremony.

When he opened the door, he said, "So, what did you – mmmphh!" He didn't get to finish the sentence because I was already kissing him.

When we broke free, he said, "I guess that answers that question," and began to take me to his room.

"Uh-uh," I said. "Somewhere out of the ordinary."

"I realize you don't see them around everywhere, but there are servants lingering. I'm not particularly interested in putting on a show for the downstairs maid."

I said, "Okay, how about the Poolhouse again?" Out of the ordinary enough; we'd only done it in there a couple of times.

He shrugged and said, "What the hell."

Men are so easy to manipulate, really. If I'd pushed it I probably could have gotten him to have sex with me on the kitchen floor, whether the downstairs maid had the day off or was sitting on the living room couch giving out style points. (We would have both gotten 10s. I'm sure of that.)

So we went out there, had a drink, and had sex on the bed, twice.

Throughout all of it – even when Logan was bringing me as much physical pleasure as he possibly could – I looked around for the evidence of the tapes, and the cameras. (I've always had this ability to compartmentalize. It's very useful at times.)

When I saw the camera in the ceiling, I threw Logan of me just as he was about to begin a third go-round. "What the hell is that?" I said.

"That? That's called a ceiling fan. Makes the room cooler. You really should know these things."

"No, I meant what's in the fan," I said. I stood up on the bed and examined it. "Look at this," I said angrily.

He stood up too. "What is it?" he said. Then he noticed the almost-completely hidden camera. "Holy –"

"Did you have anything to do with this?" I demanded, even though I knew he didn't.

"Me?" he said. "It was your idea to come in here."

I let my "anger" subside. "True. So if you didn't do it and I didn't do it –"

He nodded his head, grimly. "Dear old Dad," he said. "Let's check around. I'll bet that's not the only camera in the room."

It wasn't. There was another one in a statue at the head of the bed.

"Well, I don't know about you," I said, "But if we're not going to do it in front of the downstairs maid I'm sure as hell not going to leave any recording of this lying around where your father can see it."

"I'm with you," he said. Of course he was. So we quickly got dressed and then followed the cord from the ceiling fan to where it disappeared – looked around, and found a hidden closet.

Even I wasn't expecting what I found when I opened it. There were two TVs, one for each camera, and live-action shots of what each one was recording – I quickly pulled out the tapes. With any luck, Aaron would assume he'd forgotten to put new ones in.

But that wasn't the surprising part. The surprising part was the hundreds of other videotapes we found back there.

"Wow," Logan said. "I realized Daddy Dearest had trouble keeping it in his pants; I didn't realize he had trouble simply keeping them on . . ."

We took a quick look through the collection – ostensibly out of "curiosity," though I was looking for something specific. There were tapes going back five years – as long as the Echolls had lived in Neptune. And Aaron Echolls, who'd been smart enough to have someone set up this system, had been dumb enough to label his tapes with the names of the women he'd slept with.

While Logan was busy gawping and building up a misplaced sense of moral outrage, I found three tapes from last October marked "Lilly." I quickly shoved one under my shirt, under my arm where it'd be harder to see, and pointed out the other two.

We put them into the room's TV and played them. And there was the visual evidence I needed: Aaron Echolls had been sleeping with Lilly Kane right before her death.

I made my decision right there: Unless I found an overwhelmingly good piece of evidence pointing Weevil's or Duncan's way, I was going to do my damnedest to pin Lilly's murder on Aaron Echolls.

"He was sleeping with her," Logan was saying, almost in a daze. "My own father . . ." I didn't point out that at the time they'd been broken up and Logan had been sleeping with me – his best friend's girlfriend. That would have been counterproductive.

"I wonder," I said, as though the idea was occurring to me for the first time, "If that's all he did."

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Think about it. Your father is a violent, abusive man who's fanatically dedicated to his public image. Look down in that drawer. How many tapes did I take out?"

"Two." Then he said, "There's one missing."

"Here's my scenario," I said. "Aaron brings Lilly back here." Too bad I couldn't use those photos I had, but then Dad would wonder why the hell I'd been sitting on them for the last year. "Lilly notices the camera like I did. She follows the cord and notices the secret stash of videotapes like we did. And she looks for and finds one in particular. Then she closes up the closet and takes off." So far, you'll notice, every word I've said is absolutely true. Now it was time for a little judicious lying.

"But," I continued, "Aaron figures it out sooner rather than later. He goes over to the Kane house and demands the tape back – but she doesn't have it on her and she says something about ruining his career when it gets out. He snaps, shoves her to the ground, and kills her, then drives away. Or runs away. Or whatever."

He looked at me, eyes widening with horror. "We have to find that missing tape," he said.

"Why, Logan," I said. "That's a _wonderful_ idea."


	12. Chapter 12

Author's note: Thanks for reassuring me. I do appreciate the feedback, and I'm glad Veronica's opinions didn't bother any of y'all too badly.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created _Veronica Mars_ and all the characters therein. All I did was twist one of them a little.

X X X X X

Logan and I cleaned up the poolhouse. It took me a while to convince Logan to leave the other two tapes behind, but ultimately I got my way. He took a blank one and put a label on in a passable imitation of his father's handwriting, then stuck it into the gap in the drawer.

Clever boy. (You can see one of the reasons I like him.)

It took me even longer to convince him that we had to take the tape of the two of us having sex.

"But if he finds out, he'll know we know about his little do-it-yourself porn studio," he said.

"So we'll put in a blank tape and turn off the recorder," I said. "Let him think that he forgot to reset it, or that there was a short in the system. He'll be more likely to think that than that someone's figured him out. I know the kind of person he is." I _am_ the kind of person he is, except I'm smarter. "He doesn't think anyone will ever be able to figure him out or take him down. We need to prove him wrong."

We got another blank tape, stuck it in the video recorder, and turned it off.

"At least," Logan said. "He won't be pulling his video voyeur routine on us. I couldn't stand that. That that bastard might see you naked – might find out about us –"

"Logan, sweetie," I said gently. "Your father's not stupid. I'm sure he already knows we're having sex. I'm also fairly sure he doesn't care, as long as you don't _embarrass_ him." He reacted exactly the way I wanted him to. "We could have sex in every room in this house, including his bedroom, and all he'd want to be sure of is that none of the paparazzi caught on."

I could feel him getting angrier at his father. Good. While he finished straightening up the bedroom, removing the evidence that we'd been there, I went out to the other room, slid the tape from under my arm into my bag, and waited for him.

When he came out, we went out next to the pool and sat down.

"I'm not sure we'll be able to find that tape," I said after a few minutes of silence. "I mean, it was my Dad doing the looking. And he's good at what he does."

"I'm sure he is," Logan said. "But he doesn't know everywhere to look." He stood up abruptly and walked back into the poolhouse, leaving me scrambling to follow him.

I knew where he was going, though.

He went into the bedroom and started unscrewing the vent plate.

"You learned that from Lilly," I said.

"Lilly learned that from me," he said as he took a key from inside the vent. "The key to Daddy Dearest's liquor cabinet," he said.

"Oh," I said, as though I were just coming to the realization. "You think Lilly might have hidden the tape up there."

"It has to be there," he said, replacing the key and putting the vent plate back on.

"You're absolutely right. And I don't think Dad ever thought to look in there."

"So you're going to go tell him?" he said as we walked back outside.

For a clever boy, he could occasionally be dense. "Of course not – not until we get a chance to look in there ourselves. Think about it. What would the Sheriff need that you and I don't?"

He nodded his head. "A search warrant."

"Yup. And Dad's not exactly high up on the list of the Kanes' most favorite people right about now. He had Jakey thrown in jail and thinks Duncan killed his sister. The only way he'd get into that house is with a warrant. You and I don't need to worry about that."

"Celeste isn't going to be throwing any ticker-tape parades for our appearance, either," he reminded me. We went into the house. I had no idea where Logan was leading me. I kind of doubted he'd be up for sex now. I was, of course, but his anger at his father probably wasn't doing much for his mood.

"No," I said. "But Duncan will. We're two of the few people around here who have stuck by him – who believe in his innocence."

"You and I dating does kind of throw him," he said. He walked straight through the house and out to his bright yellow XTerra. We stopped and continued our conversation while leaning against the side of the SUV.

"True. But he's still talking to us, at least. We could simply drop by one day to cheer him up. Preferably when Celeste is out of town somewhere." Or stuffed in a dumpster.

No, I'm not planning to kill her. What do you think I am, a psychopath?

"I think we should go over right now." He went around the vehicle and started to open the door.

Okay, I had to derail _this_ idea quickly. I needed to come up with an excuse for why I should look through the room myself.

Fortunately, my excuse for why we shouldn't head over there right now was easy, quick, and convenient. And it had the added bonus of being true.

"We can't," I said. "Much as I'd like to. Celeste is home right now."

"How do you know?"

"I heard Duncan talking about it at school. Some kind of charity dinner. Just because Jakey's rotting away in that minimum security prison and the Kanes' image has sunk like a rock doesn't mean she's still not plugging away."

"We could always try to sneak in in the crowd."

I shook my head. "Too risky. If Celeste sees us she'll have us thrown out bodily. She hasn't yet actually forbidden Duncan to have us come over there. We don't want to give her any excuse."

"Then what do I do now? I mean, the next time I see my father I'm going to want to strangle him."

"Resist the temptation," I said. "You had to have inherited _some_ of his acting skills. God knows Trina didn't." Then I said, "And don't tell your mother, either. We have to keep this a secret."

He looked reluctant. "Come on, Logan," I said. "It's the only way to make sure we get justice for Lilly." Somehow I didn't crack up laughing when I said that line.

And that did it. "Okay, Veronica," he said. "We'll play it your way for the moment. But I want to get into Lilly's vent as soon as I can."

"I understand," I said. "And thanks."

Now all I had to do was beat him there.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's note: Actually, I prefer to think of Veronica as a sociopath.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas owns _Veronica Mars_. Isn't he the lucky one?

X X X X X

Once again it occurs to me how lucky I am. Not only do I have the good fortune to be born without a conscience, I also have the benefit of an exceptional intelligence and the ability to control my temper.

Most people like me -- who likewise hit the "no conscience" portion of the genetic lottery -- tend not to have those particular blessings at all.

I've reasonably certain I have Keith Mars to thank for that.

See, there are rules to social interactions and about when and where to display emotions. A smart person can pay attention to things like that and figure out the rules. Life is kind of like a television show, and I'm the star. As long as I keep following the script, I'll be okay.

It can be something of a tedious chore, sometimes, but I put up with it because I have to. I don't really like most other people. Technically, I don't like anybody, but I can appreciate certain people for their intelligence or their ability to do things for me.

I don't really hate anybody, either. I didn't even hate Lilly when I killed her.

Anyway.

After the events at Logan's house, and after I was sure he wasn't going to go running off half-cocked and make wild accusations against his father, I went home and gave the matter of the tape some thought.

Logan was going to press to get in there fairly quickly. I probably could talk or sneak my way in tonight -- a wig and a uniform and I could be a server -- but that still carried too high a risk of getting caught. I had no idea what Celeste's plans were for tomorrow and I couldn't count on her being home a second night. Ever since Jakey's unfortunate incarceration she's been aggressively trying to restore the Kane name and image and most nights of the week she's out donating to a charity, organizing a charity, or hosting something charitable.

So that meant I had to get in there tomorrow, plant the tape, and be sure that Duncan didn't realize I had the time to do it, while still fending Logan off for another day.

Hmm. It's hard work being me, sometimes.

I supposed I could simply ditch school -- which I did on the average of once an eclipse, so the odds are I'd get away with it -- and simply go into the Kane estate when no one was home --

Only there was never really no one home there. The servants, if nothing else. And that carried the same risk of being caught.

Not to mention that their security system, since it was probably designed by someone approved by Clarence Weidman, was likely going to be something James Bond would have trouble cracking.

This was going to take some thought.

Needless to say, I didn't tell Dad what I'd found. When the time came to clue him in, I'd have to come up with a reason why I withheld possible evidence. Probably the best tack to take was that I wasn't sure until Logan and I had found that tape in Lilly's vent.

The next morning, I figured it out. On the drive in, I told Logan, "You have this overpowering urge to play video fames with your best buddy Logan."

"I do?"

"You do. I'll tag along. Then I'll wonder off and indulge myself in a little creative home repair."

"Good idea," he said.

And it was, if I did say so myself. Still, if I simply showed up one day at the Balboa County Sheriff's Office and handed over the tape, any half-decent attorney could point out that I could have gotten the tape from Aaron's poolhouse as easy as Lilly's vent -- especially after I admitted that finding the camera was what had made me suspicious in the first place.

(As for why I'd been in the poolhouse bedroom: Changing clothes to swim. My Dad might suspect I have an active sex life but I'd rather not confirm it for him. It might kind of curtail my freedom to get the things done I needed done.)

So I was going to have to do more to make this work -- to make it real. But I couldn't tell Logan about that part.

When we were driving to Duncan's after school, I said, "Try to play something I wouldn't like."

"Do you like _any_ computer games, Veronica?" Logan asked.

"The Sims. Otherwise, not so much." No lie. I liked the Sims. Being able to control people's lives was a lot of fun.

Kind of like the real world, actually, with a bit less chance of things backfiring.

"Still," I continued. "One of those cutesy cartoon things has less chance of driving me away than a combat game with extra gore."

"Right. One side of extra gore, hold the cutesy."

Duncan was surprised to see me, but he didn't say anything. I saw those looks he was sending my way, though. Longing looks.

"I didn't realize you were coming," Duncan said.

"Logan wanted the company," I said. "And I realized I hadn't been over to see you in a while anyway. How are things going?"

"Fairly well," he said. "I don't think people are sneering at me nearly as much as they used to."

Poor, poor, pitiful Duncan. Still, he probably wasn't lying.

Not really my concern, honestly. Some people could pick themselves up after something horrendous happened to them. Some people couldn't. Duncan was one of the latter.

It was possible that, after Aaron was publicly accused of the crime, that Duncan's reputation might rebound; but there were unintended consequences for every action.

"Good to hear," I finally said. "One of these days you'll look around and find that they're simply ignoring you."

"Probably the best I can hope for," he said.

Probably.

"So, anyway, what're you in the mood for?"

Logan looked at me, then said, "Something extra gorey."

"Always in the mood to kick your ass with any kind of weapon or combo," Duncan said, picking out a game. "Veronica? Are you sure this won't bother you?"

"If it does, I'll let you know."

I watched for about ten minutes and said, "I'm letting you know. I'll be back in a few minutes." On the way out of the room I leaned down to Logan and, under the guise of giving him a quick kiss, I said, "You had no idea."

He looked confused for a second but wisely said nothing.

I went to Lilly's room and set a chair up underneath the vent.

Then I noticed an odd-looking pen on the desk nearby. I remembered Lilly telling me about her special "secret message pen" that she was going to use to carry notes to her "luvahs." I picked it up. I couldn't risk Lilly's maybe having written or received a note about me in those last days before I killed her.

Then I took out a screwdriver and carefully unscrewed the vent.

I looked inside. Nothing in there, at the moment. Then I took out a cloth, wiped off Logan's and my fingerprints from the tape, and, putting on a pair of gloves, placed it inside. Thank goodness, there wasn't that much of a layer of dust in there. Air blowing through tended to leave vents nice and clean.

Then I took off the gloves and cloth and shoved them back in my bag, then I put one of the vent's four screws back in. This left the vent cover dangling,

Two of the screws I tossed to the bed.

And now for the fun part.

See, again, if all I did was find this myself, then it'd be easy to cast doubt on its origin.

But with a couple of other people there, even with one of them being the prime suspect --

Well, hell, I would have preferred doing this with Celeste in the house. But if Celeste had been there I never would have gotten inside.

I screamed, dropped the screwdriver and the remaining screw, and fell off the chair intentionally. When I hit the floor, I lay there.

Duncan and Logan came running in about fifteen seconds later.

I got up, faking wooziness, and heard Duncan yell, "What the hell is going on here?"

"Dude," Logan said, "I had no idea."


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: The penultimate chapter of The Answer. I think you'll like what I do in the final part.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas owns Veronica Mars. I created this particular iteration.

X X X X X

"Veronica!" Duncan shouted. "What are you doing in Lilly's room?"

Logan pulled me to my feet and said, "Are you okay?"

"Peachy keen," I said. "And what I'm doing in Lilly's room, Duncan -- the vent is where Lilly always used to hide things. I wanted to see if maybe there was anything still in there. There is. Where's that screwdriver?" I looked around on the floor until I found it.

"I thought you said you didn't believe I had anything to do with it," Duncan said.

"I still don't. In fact, I think I know who did it. Just --" I got back up on the chair --"Let me get this final screw off, and --" It took a few seconds, and then for the second time I removed Lilly's vent cover. I handed it to Duncan. "Ha!" I said. "This is it!"

"This is what?" Duncan said. "Veronica, I think I deserve some explanation of what's going on here."

"A couple of days ago," I said, "I was in the poolhouse over at Logan's. I went into the bedroom to change into my swimsuit, and when I looked up at the ceiling I saw a camera in the overhead fan."

"A camera?" Duncan asked. No, a pencil sharpener. Idiot.

The thing is, I know Duncan's not stupid. He gets excellent grades. But there's definitely some kind of disconnect between his kind of intelligence and the kind that lets you live in the real world.

Logan could live in the real world. He might find it hard to tone down his casual abuse of everyone and everything, but if he were tossed out of the house tomorrow with nothing but the clothes on his back, he'd find a way, eventually, to survive. (I, of course, would flourish.)

"Yes. I called Logan in and we found another one -- then we found that the entire place was wired, and that there were hundreds of tapes hidden behind one of the walls."

"They were all women my father slept with," Logan said. "He labelled every single tape." He stood on the chair and started to reach into the vent.

"No!" I said. "We need to make sure no one touches it. Not until my father gets here."

He stopped, then said, "I can see the label. It's my father's handwriting, all right – and it's got Lilly's name on it."

Duncan asked, "But why would Lilly's name be on -- oh my God. You don't mean --"

"I do mean, Duncan," I said. "Logan and I saw a bit of two of the other tapes. Lilly and Aaron Echolls were having an affair."

"Lilly wouldn't –"

"Lilly did," Logan snapped. "Along with, apparently, half the female population of Neptune. I don't think he ever slept with your mother or Veronica. Everyone else seems to be open for debate."

"It gets worse," I said. "You know how Aaron is. Devoted to his public image. If a tape got out of him having sex with an underage girl –"

This time, Duncan got it right off the bat. "You think he killed Lilly."

Logan said, "I'm sure of it. Who else had the motivation? Who else around here is capable of something like this, and cunning enough to cover it up for a year and a half?" You mean, besides me?

I loved that he was making my case for me.

"I know your Dad can have a quick temper," Duncan said, "But –"

"My 'Dad' has been beating me with a belt regularly since I was about six years old," Logan said. "He could have done this. Trust me."

Duncan insisted on standing on the chair and looking into the vent himself; he saw Lilly's name on the tape, sighed, and stepped down.

"Okay," he said. "What do we do now?"

What he did next was call my father. I explained the entire chain of events exactly as I'd explained it to Duncan, and told Dad, that no, we hadn't touched the tape.

"Then how do you know it's the same as the other two, sweetie?"

"Educated guess. Look. Can you get a warrant for here and the Echolls poolhouse, or not?"

"I can try."

He succeeded. An hour later he was there at the Kane estate; he was able to get the warrant so quickly because he specified exactly where and what he'd be searching for.

And this way it was public record that he took the tape out of the vent, not me, Logan, or Duncan.

We all went down to the station, where Dad independently questioned Duncan and Logan, and had one of his deputies question me, to make sure there wouldn't be any accusations of bias if it ever came time to arrest Aaron Echolls.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. Dad was able to get a search warrant for the Echolls estate, finding not only Aaron's do-it-yourself porn studio, but also the belts that Logan said Aaron beat him with – some of which still had forensic evidence and markings proving they'd been used to beat someone. The marks on Logan's back pretty clearly indicated who.

Aaron also had no alibi for the time of the murder. He said he'd been relaxing out by the pool the entire time, that Lilly had never been over there, and that of course he'd never killed her.

He was arrested not long afterwards, on one count of murder in the second degree, one count of child abuse, and five counts of statutory rape.

Lynn Echolls came forward after the arrest and confirmed a lot of what Logan had said – also confirming, publicly, the existence of the tapes and the hidden cameras, and the numerous affairs Aaron had had. Aaron's lawyer managed to get any tapes not directly connected to the case against him suppressed – but the search warrants were ruled legal.

In the case of the poolhouse, the courts ruled that Logan had every right to invite me in – and in the case of the Kane estate, the courts ruled that Aaron had no standing to object. Celeste certainly wasn't objecting.

Any irritation she felt at the way I snuck into the house to rifle through her daughter's room was quickly replaced by the joy of her son's no longer being the prime suspect.

I was thrilled with how well I'd managed to pull off the frame-job. With Logan, Duncan, and Dad's unwitting help, with any luck, Aaron Echolls would ultimately be doing, well, probably life in prison.

He was almost guaranteed some jail time, for statutory rape, if nothing else. The tapes proved that pretty much conclusively. The murder charge would be a bit harder – but they had motive, they had means, and they had a truckload of circumstantial evidence. Not much forensic evidence – someone had mysteriously wiped the videotape clean – but after a bit over a year they hadn't expected to find any.

After all, anyone cunning enough to hide a brutal murder like this for a year certainly was cunning enough to have long since thrown away all of their clothes – I mean, cutting them into tiny pieces, say, and spreading them throughout garbage cans in the greater Neptune area.

Hypothetically, you understand.

Duncan regained part of his standing at Neptune High – but he actually wasn't especially interested. While he was glad not to be spit on and generally thought of as a murderer, he decided he didn't especially want to be popular anymore.

This was good. That meant that my road to the class presidency was free and clear.

Oh? I didn't tell you I was running?


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: The line belongs to Harry Turtledove. Just for the record,

And yes, this is it for The Answer at the moment. I lay the groundwork for a possible sequel here, but if I ever do it it'll be awhile. My next _Veronica Mars_ story will be the sequel to Death Becomes Him. It will be called "Blood Kin."

Anyway: I'm glad you've enjoyed the adventures of Veronica the sociopath.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created Veronica Mars and the characters and settings of this story. I own only the plotline.

X X X X X

I've got three opponents. The only one of any note is Wanda Vahrner. Wanda Vahrner was scoring a lot of points with her proposal to get rid of Pirate Points. Pirate Points are a way, essentially, for the '09er crowd and the jocks and cheerleaders to get privileges that the hoi polloi of Neptune High couldn't get. Even though I was fairly well known as being the nice one among the Neptune High elite, I was still one of them.

For once, that was working against me. I needed to find a way to neutralize Wanda Vahrner, and fast.

I asked my friends. I very carefully did not ask Wallace to get me her private file, or Mac to do any of her hacker stuff. If that got out, it would have been considered "cheating" and gotten me in trouble.

No one knew anything until I got down to Weevil. "Yeah, I got something on her," Weevil said.

"What?"

"I ain't sure I want to tell you, Mars. What's in it for me?"

I laughed. I kind of respected Weevil. Yeah, even he was weighed down with conscience, but he looked out for himself.

"What do you want?"

"I dunno. Much as I hate Wanda Vahrner, I think she's kinda got a good point about this 'Pirate Point' jazz. Just another way for the high-and-mighty to stick it to the rest of us."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd've cared about any of that stuff."

"Hey, I'd like to be able to get myself a pizza or some burgers to go every once in awhile without having Clemmons get on my case for it. I work in shop, I make things. Why's that any different from what some of them damn jocks do?"

"How about this, then. You tell me what you have on Vahrner; when I'm elected I'll do my best to give the points to everyone."

"Do your best?"

"The title's President, not Dictator." At least for the moment. "Unless you want to join me and stage a revolution?"

"Naah, that sounds like too much work. Fair enough. Vahrner's a narc. She rats out the other students to cover her own ass for a drug crime she got nailed on a while back. I've had some of my boys go to jail over what she said."

"Get proof and you've got your deal."

Weevil didn't get proof, exactly; but he did get a lot of people talking about Vahrner the Narc, which was the next best thing. And I kept myself above the fray by "taking the high road" and not touching the story.

"Wanda and I were in the pep squad together," I said. "I'm not going to attack her." Not while I had Weevil to do it for me.

Then I undercut her even more when it came time to give my speech. "Fellow Neptune High students," I said. "I'm Veronica Mars, and I'm here to tell you the truth." I cribbed that line from some alternate history book somewhere. If anyone asked, I'd give credit. "And the truth is – much as we may hate to hear it – Wanda Vahrner is onto something about the Pirate Points. But she's wrong when she says we should get rid of them. So here's the deal. Vote for me and we'll keep Pirate Points – but we'll also give them to other people. People in the chess club. In the marching band. In debate club. That way anyone who wants to take advantage of them can do so, and anyone who doesn't, doesn't have to."

That sealed Wanda's fate right there. With the narc rep dogging her, and my proposal on the table, I got 65 of the vote and won outright. Some of the '09er crowd was a little annoyed that I was letting "the unwashed masses" get the same rights they had, but really, who else were they going to vote for?

Things went pretty smoothly in Neptune for a while after that. Sure, there was that whole bus crash thing my senior year -- I helped 'solve' that one too -- but that's a story for another day.

Incidentally: with the tapes as evidence, and Lynn and Logan lined up to testify against him, Aaron Echolls was eventually found guilty of all charges against him except child abuse. He's currently serving 30 to life in a prison upstate.

I got away with murder. Literally.

And my political career was just beginning.

X X X X X

_**The following message is brought to you by the Veronica Mars for President Committee:**_

"My fellow Americans, I know you. You're tired of politicians who say one thing and mean something else. Who'll lie to get into office -- tell you what you want to hear to get your vote, and then come up with ten thousand excuses why they didn't keep their word. Well, that's not me. My name is Veronica Mars, and I'm here to tell you the truth."

"And the truth is, the country's in sad shape. Wars. Depression. The skyrocketing price of oil. And I'll tell you the truth: I can't promise that I'm going to fix any of that. I wish I could, but then I'd be lying to you." I paused for a second and said, "The other candidates will swear that their economic programs, their plans for troop pullout -- that that'll solve all of America's problems. But you've been getting the same line from the people in charge for forty years now. It hasn't changed. It hasn't changed because they haven't changed."

"What I can promise you is that I'll do my best to fix them. I have my own plans -- and I think they'll work. But I can't make any guarantees. What I can promise is that I will never lie to you. Anything you want to know? I'll tell you. Anything you want to know my position on? I'll tell you. Just ask. And as far as what's wrong with the country goes -- I don't have the answers."

"I _am _the answer."

X X X X X

Wanna come to an inauguration?


End file.
